


Take Two

by lifeofroonilwazlib



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Non-Graphic Smut, Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23374822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofroonilwazlib/pseuds/lifeofroonilwazlib
Summary: Annabeth can't stop thinking about the night before with Percy. She senses an opportunity and the armoury is nearby.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154





	Take Two

The first time she had been completely in the moment. She had drunk in every second of the experience, memorised exactly how the skin over Percy’s ribs moved under her hands, discovered and intimately learned a multitude of new sensations when he’d touched her in the unfamiliar ways he had. But now, with her back pressed against the armoury wall and her legs wrapped around Percy’s hips, she was stuck in the past, trying to figure out what exactly had happened in the moments that had just passed.

Last thing she could recall, she had been sparring with a new recruit, trying to demonstrate a basic wrist tackle when something (someone) had distracted her across the arena. A careless excuse, a moment of confusion, and several moments of weakness later, she was pushing Percy through the armoury door, weapons raining down around them as they crashed into the wall.

Honestly, Annabeth was surprised they had lasted even this long. Since last night, when she had been exploring uncharted territory with Percy in the privacy of Cabin Three, it was like Annabeth was seeing a whole new spectrum of colours for the first time. She had seen him at breakfast, tables away, eating alone but eyes fixed on her the whole time. She had felt him watching her as she scaled the climbing wall. She had felt bubbling in the pit of her stomach when he handed over her sword for recruit training. And now, by late afternoon, Annabeth felt she had tortured herself long enough.

She squeezed her legs around Percy harder, his hip bones pressing into her thighs with the _perfect_ amount of pressure. His lips paused, barely millimetres above the pulse point in her neck. His low growl of her name shattered her self-restraint even further and her fingers worked blindingly, clawing their orange t-shirts off, shaking with anticipation at the thought of the burning skin underneath.

So this was new too. The urgency. Last night had been slow, breathy, full of fumbles and soft kisses, and while the heat was the same, it now sizzled in flashing bursts all over her body, instead of the slow, deep burn that had threatened to consume her just hours ago. It made something bubble in Annabeth’s chest, the idea that there was so much left to discover with Percy, despite all the years, despite the near-death experiences, despite Tarta–

Annabeth’s hand fluttered to a standstill, something icy quickly unfolding behind her bellybutton. Percy’s lips went still on her skin, and he tilted his head back, until his eyes, pupils dilated, settled on hers.

“Hey,” he smiled, lips swollen and scarlet. He looked the picture of ravishment, but his eyebrows furrowed, recognizing the clamminess, the unfocused eyes, all the signs that he knew too well. Annabeth grasped at the skin on Percy’s back, trying to channel the pulsing warmth from the arteries underneath.

He pressed his forehead on hers. “We’re okay.” He wiped away the tears welling in her eyes before they had a chance to spill. “We’re –”

“I know,” She cut him off, trying to see just him instead of rivers of fire and ice. Annabeth’s voice quivered as she forced herself to focus on different memories from that place – Percy sleeping peacefully on Damasen’s bed, Percy grasping her hand whenever she felt like collapsing, Percy’s arms around her, relentless, as they plummeted into the darkness, and something that wasn’t a memory – Percy, right now, shirtless and tousle-haired, with his hands planted firmly on her butt.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, the edges of her vision clearing. 

He nuzzled her neck. “Don’t be, two nights ago that was me.”

“It just sucks.” 

“We’ll get better at this.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Which _this_ do you mean?” Her lips twisted, trying to remain closed and neutral.

Percy paused a moment, and she felt the energy thrum through his fingers where they grasped her skin. Instead of answering, he pushed her into the wall again, closing the space between them.

Annabeth returned to the present, fully immersed in the way he shimmied her shorts down, his fingers leaving smatterings of heat on her hipbones, in how his confidence with her body had soared in just a few hours, in how he was touching her and moving her in a way she’d never been touched or moved before. If he’d gotten so much better by just the second time…Well.

Acting on the same kind of instincts that led her in a fight, Annabeth bit his shoulder, shaking with the effort of restraining the force of her bite. As soon as she did, Percy, as if jolted by the sting, thrusted harder, hitting spots inside of her she didn’t even know existed. Delicate wooden bows, shining celestial bronze daggers, dented chest plates rattled around them as Annabeth gripped the metal scaffolding that held them in place, hoping it would hold her up as well. Percy tensed, and she could feel him reaching his limit. As he came apart, he stroked the side of her neck with an open mouth, licking off the sweat and swirling around her pulse point in a way that tipped her over the edge and brought her down with him. Annabeth’s thighs quivered, not so much from the strain of gripping Percy’s waist as from the heat and wetness pooling between them.

She felt him go weak, and she let go of the metal scaffolding as he sunk to the floor, allowing herself to slip down the wall, her back slick with sweat. Annabeth caressed the back of his neck, pressing her forehead to his. She didn’t speak, hoping that her soft touches were telling him that what he’d done was so amazing that she couldn’t formulate a coherent thought.

“Wow,” Percy said.

 _Wow is exactly right,_ Annabeth thought, still trying to shake the fractals out of her vision.

He took a breath and she could hear his tone turning into a signature Percy quip before he even started to speak. “If we keep up at this pace…”

The smile was already unfurling on her face. “You might get tired,” Annabeth murmured, unconvincingly.

“Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“Even if I,” his hand slipped between the tangle of their legs, “ _practice?”_

Annabeth guessed she should have been glad that training was still going on – only the clang of celestial bronze could have hidden the sounds she made after that.


End file.
